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Logline
After a dedicated tattoo artist swears off love for the sake of his business, his matchmaking sister surprises him with a tempting new roommate who may ink his heart forever.
Blurb
My sister has done all she could to push me into a relationship, but having someone move in with me is the worst. I can't say no, so now I am stuck living with the same girl I tattooed not so long ago and she doesn't even remember me.
I always put my business first, but the more time I spend with Melody, the more inclined I am to put my heart before my business and make her mine.
~Prologue | Sunlight~
Cassius
One Month Ago
The smell of lavender seeps into the atmosphere as an angel appears at my tattoo station.
My heart thumps in the pit of my throat. She's dressed in a pink, blue, and white knit sweater. Her sleeves are rolled up, revealing her arms. They aren't like mine... they're shorter, like she doesn't have a forearm. I've never seen anyone like that before. I shouldn't be staring, but my gaze continues to wander over her—not missing her plump rosy lips or those bright silver eyes that call out to me like the moon.
She's gorgeous, but with the way she bows her head, it's clear she doesn't think the same.
"How can I help you?" I ask. Nerves creep up the back of my neck, and my throat is suddenly dry. I lift the water bottle in my hand to my lips, needing something to ease my thirst.
"They said you're the guy I should see to help with my virginity."
I nearly spit out my drink. Instead, it gets inhaled into my lungs. I cough for relief, trying my best to clear the water from my airways. She might not have meant to, but she's definitely the first woman ever to catch me off guard. Not the first to nearly kill me, though.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you choke. Usually, I'm the one choking." Her wide silver eyes latch onto me as her hands fly to her mouth.
A smirk curls onto my lips even as I'm practically dying from the water I accidentally inhaled.
"No, it's fine," I manage to let out. "I don't mind getting choked."
And now it's my turn to mentally face-palm at my own words. I clear my throat and shake my head. Changing the subject sounds like the best option. "So, which did you want?"
"Huh?" She tilts her head.
"Do you want to be marked or pierced?" I explain. Cece, my sister—the front desk attendant—is laughing her ass off outside my office. I walk over to the woman, hold my hand over her shoulder, and close the door for privacy. "I can do whichever you'd like."
